


The Loch Ness Saint

by Cryptidneet, viceversa



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Loch Ness Monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 09:58:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17020518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cryptidneet/pseuds/Cryptidneet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/viceversa/pseuds/viceversa
Summary: Mulder and Scully are cuddled up, watching a documentary on Nessie, when Scully realizes that she knows more than the editors of the film. Fluff ensues. Inspired by cryptidneet's art!





	The Loch Ness Saint

Scully sighed and shifted under Mulder’s arm. They were reclined together on the couch in front of the flickering TV. Mulder had proudly presented a new documentary on Nessie, to be enjoyed by them on their weekend off.

“See, Scully look! This is the new footage!” Mulder’s chest tensed with anticipation behind her back 

A grainy clip of no more three seconds showed a dark shadow move under water. Scully looked in disbelief.

“ _That’s_ the “New Undeniable Evidence” they boasted about on the packaging? That could be anything!”

Mulder tightened his grip on her hip and paused the documentary. “That was clearly a very large fish, at least! Too large, supernaturally large—come on, you saw the fins! And that tail!”

“I saw nothing, Mulder. It was a dark shape under water. It was probably just a cloud passing overhead.”

Mulder fake gasped. “Dana Scully, this could be real evidence of Big Blue’s cousin and you call it a shadow? How dare you—”

“Okay, you’ve officially had too much sugar today Mulder. Next time I’m cutting you off after the first hot chocolate. Let’s get this over with.”

Scully grabbed the remote from the arm of the couch and hit play, discreetly checking how long the so-called documentary had left. Thirty minutes. God help her.

Luckily it was slightly less offensive from there on out, for about ten minutes. They relaxed back into the couch and each other and Scully was considering taking a nap. Mulder was playing delightfully with her sweater, just skimming skin every now and then, running his hand from her hip to her stomach and back, just touching.

Then she heard something that was simply not true, no matter how you shook out the legend of the Loch Ness Monster.

_“Reports of the sea-beast date back hundreds of years, the earliest report being from the 10 th century in Scotland, when a fisherman’s boat was—”_

“That’s wrong,” Scully stated.

“What?” Mulder moved the arm under Scully and paused the tape again. “What is it this time?”

“They’re wrong—the earliest reports, legends,” she emphasized, “are from way earlier. I think as early as the fifth or sixth century.”

“What?” Mulder shifted Scully so he could look her in the eye. “I’ve only ever heard 10th like they said, and even then, the real reports didn’t start coming in until the 1930s when a road was built near the lake and—”

“Mulder I know I’m right. It was a saint. One of his miracles was connected to the legend. Saint, uh. I can’t remember his name.” There was a book, on the shelf just over there with the information she needed.

Mulder’s eyes got big. “Scully, are you telling me that the Catholic Church has canonized someone who reported fighting the Nessie?”

“That’s not—”

“Maybe I should convert to a religion more accepting of cryptids.”

“I have to look this up. And it’s not what he was canonized for either. He was a missionary or something.” Scully tried to get up to find the book, but Mulder pulled her back closer to him, not wanting to let her go. She landed on his chest, his arms firmly around her.

As it turns out, Mulder liked to cuddle. They spent most of their free time entangled with each other these days. If he could wrap himself around Scully all day every day he would. The psychologist in him explained this behavior with decades of being touch starved. Being close to Scully had always made him feel better, feel seen, and ever since he had permission to touch and to hold on, he’d barely let go.

“Don’t get up, we’re comfortable. Let’s just watch the rest of it.”

Scully huffed against his chest, reluctantly succumbing to his limbs wrapping around her, a knee blocking her exit, sucking her back further into the couch.

“Fine.”

The film continued with more nonsense, but the longer Scully watched the more frustrated she became at not being able to remember the name of the saint or the circumstances. She had spent years researching everything related to X-files and had grown a small collection of books she was only a little embarrassed to own. But, you never knew when obscure knowledge would come in handy.

It was in a old, dark red book, she remembered. One she had picked up about the folklore of the British Isles in a used bookstore. His name, it was on the tip of her tongue. She just couldn’t quite remember.

She glanced up at Mulder. He was enraptured in the storytelling. Maybe she could just slip out of his arms. Scully slowly started moving, inching her way toward the edge of the couch, but Mulder caught on and tugged her back into position.

“Come on. There’s only ten more minutes. I think you can suffer through with me.”

Scully almost started to argue but realized there was really no point. But she couldn’t focus on the film any longer. Her eyes lost focus somewhere just over Mulder’s chest, her fingers playing with the loose threads of his sweater, hearing only his heartbeat.

For a few minutes she was back in paradise, in the sweet winter comfort of her couch and her Mulder. And then, she started listing saints silently in her head. Dammit, which one was it? He had been in Ireland, then Scotland, in the sixth century, and he’d done something with a water beast.

“Scully, hey.” Mulder shifted under her, trying to rouse her from her mind. “Where’d ya go?”

Was it Saint Brendan? No, Scully thought, he went to the Americas, not to Scotland. But what about—

Mulder finally poked her in the sensitive area on her side and she jumped, turning to ask what the hell he was thinking, but Mulder cut her off.

“Doc’s over. Did you fall asleep or something? I can rewind it if you want.”

Scully ignored him. She could finally get up! Mulder allowed her to move, but only to turn so his back was against the back of the couch and she was partially under him, now face to face.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mulder pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, trying to smooth out the determined wrinkles there.

“That saint, it’s driving me crazy. I have a book—”

“Well I have you in my arms, no chance you’re escaping.”

“Mulder, let me go! I have to look this up!” Scully leveraged herself off of the couch, playing dirty with elbows and heels, nearly falling to the floor. Third time’s the charm.

He held on like a limpet until the last second, stretching her sweater and almost succeeding in drawing her back. He fell against the cushions dramatically when she escaped.

“Sculllllyyyy!” His groan was muffled in the cushions but clear and familiar to Scully. “Come back!” She could hear his pout.

Scully huffed and tried to straighten out her clothing and hair, to little success. She padded to the bookshelf and found the little book in no time. She methodically went to the index, found the entry for the Loch Ness Monster, and started flipping to the page when she felt Mulder come up behind her.

Cuddle-warm and languid, he slung one heavy arm over her shoulders, the other coming around to hold her closer to him.

“Did you find your spooky saint?” he mumbled against her head. Scully cleared her throat and began to read.

“’Arriving in Scotland from his native Ireland, Saint Columba began his quest to convert the Picts near Inverness. However, on his journey there, he encountered a beast that had been killing people in the lake.’”

“Baby Nessie?” Mulder supplied, rocking Scully gently in his arms. Scully ignored him and continued reading.

“’In 565 AD, he witnessed the beast about to attack another man and intervened with the sign of the cross, invoking the name of God, and commanding the creature to ‘go back with all speed’ and never harm anyone again.’”

“Seems a bit convenient."

“’The creature retreated into the River Ness, and no one has been harmed by it since.’ See, Mulder? 565 AD is a hell of a lot earlier than the 10th century. And it says that the written account was from the early seventh century hagiography. If the documentary got that detail wrong, then it discounts everything else they were saying.”

“Scully, I hope you know that the fact that you even own this book makes you all the more attractive to me,” he rumbled.

Scully closed her eyes, partially with the relief of finding the legend, but mainly because it was a Saturday and Mulder was wrapped around her. Even when she went a little insane.

“Shut up, Mulder.” She melted back into his arms.

Mulder felt her relax and gently took the book from her, setting it haphazardly on the bookshelf nearby and turning Scully in his arms once again. They stood there for a few minutes, taking a moment to just be still with one another, before Scully took Mulder’s hand and led him back to the couch.

“Alright, what are we watching next?”

Mulder held up a new VHS copy of “Bigfoot: The Compelling Evidence” and had to duck when Scully tossed a pillow at his head.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to cryptidneet, as always! I can't wait to start collaborating with you!!  
> also thank you to history.com, wikipedia, and the discovering ireland page for the info!


End file.
